Wot I Calls Enterprise
by Sebastian Hewajima
Summary: Sequel to Sweeney Todd - Susanna and Nicholas just wanted to have some fun, they never thought they'd be stuck in such a perdiciment... FULL SUMMARY INSIDE
1. I Doubt if anyone would know: Prologue

A/N: set in London after Sweeney Todd, a girl and a boy go exploring in the old haunted shop on Fleet Street, what they meet t

**A/N: set in London after Sweeney Todd, a girl and a boy go exploring in the old haunted shop on Fleet Street, what they meet there makes London wish they had burned that shop once and for all.**

**Based off of the movie, if you haven't seen it, you'll be fine.**

**--**

Susan and Nicholas ran down Fleet Street, angry shopkeepers shouting at them as they passed, the children just kept running, laughing and smiling.

Susan was a simple girl with shoulder length dark brown hair, and big brown eyes that displayed every emotion at once. She was dressed in simple gray skirts, a filthy shift, and a pair of soft-soled leather shoes.

Nicholas was also a very plain boy, his dark-almost black eyes matched his black hair; His clothes were of working-class nature, a brown leather vest over a white shirt, with a pair of pinstripe slacks and two soft-soled shoes.

"You're a slow one, lad!" shouted the shrill voice of Susan from ahead

"Well see about tha' when I catch you, pet!" Nicholas retorted

Susan rounded a fruit cart in the cobblestone road and looking around saw the dusty doorway to the old Meat Pie Shop, and bounded inside.

Breathing heavily, Susan looked around for a place to hide; spotting a doorway to a second room she quickly shuffled over and saw wondrous things her family could never afford, a piano, several pictures, a second chesterfield, and a shelf full of bottles containing various alcoholic drinks.

Susan was pulled from her thoughts when she heard the soft tinkle of the bell when the door opened, spying an easy-chair in the far end of the room near the fireplace, Susan dove behind it.

Nicholas entered the front room of the Pie Shop looking for Susan, walking into another room, decorated heavily, "Wot a waste, stupid girly junk, tha' is." Nicholas sneered

Walking further into the room he spied a staircase, it looked empty and void of life, Nicholas suppressed a shudder and carried on, down the hall he found two double doors, "Susan, you're always the worst at hidin'." Nicholas scolded as he dragged the rusty doors open and proceeded down the long stairs leading into the abyss.

Reaching a large metal door, Nicholas heaved it open, and was met with a sight to run your blood cold.

First Nicholas was hit with a wall of ungodly stench, then, from the light or the miraculously burning oven he saw it, two corpses sat rotting in a vast bloodstain on the hard-stone floor, several other corpses and skeletons filled with rotting flesh lay in the corner, rats gnawing on the bits of flesh squeaked at the sight of Nicholas and hid near a sewer grate.

Nicholas' hands were shaking and his jaw was slack, he shouldn't have seen this, is was unholy; backing away Nicholas crossed himself and ran up the stairs screaming "Bloody Murder!" at the top of his lungs.

Susan, hearing his shouts as he stomped past her once again became curious, and went to investigate, she traveled in the same path as Nicholas did, until she came across the pile of bloody corpses, and stood there, numb, simply taking in the gruesome sight, finally, coming to her senses, Susan walked closer to the two corpses in the middle, a man, though you could hardly tell with his bloodstained clothes and rotting flesh, kneeling over a woman, with a tattered dress and missing eyes.

Susan crossed herself and walked around the 'couple', finding a small silver, bloodstained object glistening in the light of the fire, Susan went to inspect it further, finding it to be a razor. "This must've cost a pretty penny, it did…" Susan murmured running her small pale finger along the blade and using the front of her shift, rubbing off most of the dried blood.

Susan sank to her knees overcome with emotion, tears welled up over her cheeks as she continued to clean the blade, a song spilled from her lips, one she had never heard, "_There was a barber and his wife, and he was beautiful…"_ Susan sang quietly _"A proper artist with a knife, but they transported him for life, and he was beautiful…" _ Susan became puzzled, a frown darkening her features; she was singing a song he hadn't been taught by her mother, which was odd indeed. Susan shrugged and kept singing. _"And she was virtuous, and he was… naive…" _

Unbeknownst to Susan the police had arrived with Nicholas in the cellar full of corpses, and the frown on the officers' faces wasn't looking like a bright outcome.

"Susanna Bekett?" a stout officer with red-brown hair asked in a hard voice

Susan's eyes were wide and her voice shook as she answered "Y-yes?"

The other officer stepped forward with a pair of rusted shackles, and began to put them on Susan's tiny hands "By the order of London I hereby place you under arrest under the terms of murder." His voice was gruff and hard, someone used to locking up children

The stout officer put his huge hand on Nicholas' shoulder, dwarfing the boy "You did the righ' thing, lad." He encouraged "But she's a little vixen, she is." He eyed Susan

Susan's tears began streaming anew, as she glared at Nicholas' downcast eyes, she followed his gaze to the razor on the floor, and a song one again spilled from her lips, only this one she decided to alter:

"_You were my friend, you used to listen…_

_We used to play, used to smile, in the light,_

_My friend! My faithful friend!_

_Speak to me friend, whisper, I'll listen,_

_I know, I know you'll be locked out of sight,_

_For these years, like me my friend!_

_But I'll come home! To find you waiting!_

_Home! We'll be together, and we'll do wonders… won't we…?"_

"Tha's enough, love." Grinned the officer holding her shackles, obviously enjoying this "You're gonna have a violent chat with Judge Tobias…"

"No…" Susan whispered, horrified.


	2. Ah, There's No Place Like London: Ch1

A/N: Okay, were going to pick up where we left off here, and um, half way in the middle we may jump ahead for about

**A/N: Okay, were going to pick up where we left off here, and um, half way in the middle we may jump ahead for about… 20 years, so if Susan and Nicholas are around 10/11 that area they'll be 30 or so, okay, yes… okay and also:**

**I will not, and never will own Sweeney Todd, Stephan Sodheim owns the music, and as hard as I try, I never will, seriously, never… ever…**

**--**

Susan sat in the wooden box next to the Judge's huge pedestal; her knuckles were white as she gripped the crudely carved woodwork, she glanced up at the Judge as he thoughtfully took in the information the police officer, the one that had put her in handcuffs, recounted the event, his coal black eyes glazed slightly, and tuffs of black hair stuck out around the edges of his white powdered wig.

When the officer finished, Judge Tobias leaned back slightly, sweat was pouring from his forehead as he studied the evidence, suddenly he spoke "The razor," he said in a hoarse voice "Was it…" he hesitated "…silver?" he asked

"I-I think so, sir," the officer said, confused "But wha' was done 'ere was definitely done with it, small little slits on every neck, there was…"

"I see," The Judge said slowly, a bead a sweat leaving a trail down the slight powder on his cheek "Take her away, a little vixen like 'er shouldn't be around London… hard labor, Australia…"

Susan's jaw dropped, she had heard of this happening to adults, but never children, not since the dark days that Judge Turpin ruled the courts

The same officer grabbed the chains linking her shackles together, Susan let out a small squeak but followed, with a heavy heart she looked at Nicholas, his head was down and she couldn't see his face, but she definitely saw teardrops on his brown slacks.

Susan twisted to look back up at the Judge, he had taken off his wig to reveal a full head of black hair, cut short agenst his head, he looked down at Susan's retreating form with an unreadable expression, and Susan just glared her heart out in return.

--TIMEWARP--

Young Grace Hope shared her father's love of sailing, so it was only fitting that she become a sailor, although only supply boats with Spanish sailors and only a handful of Caucasian men would take her, apparently do matter how good a sailor a woman might be, it was bad luck to have her on a ship.

Still Grace was living life and loving every minute of it, she had never been restrained or confined; she had a helpful, although worrisome mother, and a childish father.

Grace sighed and a long-forgotten song fell from her lips:

"_I have sailed the world and beheld its wonders,_

_From the Dardanelles to the mountains of Peru,_

_But there's no place like London—"_

"_No there's no place like London…"_ a bitter female voice agreed, it was Susan, the woman they had picked up on the Australian shore, she had been quiet and kept to herself for most of the sail until this very moment Grace had been slightly frightened of her.

"Ma'am?" Grace asked expectedly

Susan continued "You are young, life has been kind to you…" she began the song again _"You will learn…_

_There's a hold in the world like a great black pit,_

_And the vermin in the world inhabit it,_

_And they're morals aren't worth what a pig would spit,_

_And it goes by the name of London,_

_At the top of the hole sit a privileged few,_

_Making mockery of the vermin in the lower zoo,_

_Turning beauty into greed and filth,_

_I too have sailed the world and seen its wonders,_

_Though the stupidity of men is a wondrous as Peru,_

_And there's no place like… London!"_

A dark scowl formed on the pale face of Susan, her dark hair cascading in small ringlets around her face as she glared at the seaport at London's harbor.

Grace continued to stare at Susan, although she was only 30, her eyes betrayed her and gave her a tale, Grace herself was a mere 18, and was still stubbornly without husband.

"_There was a barber and his wife,_

_And he was beautiful,_

_A proper artist with a knife,_

_But he had to end his life,_

_And he was beautiful…_

_There was a little boy who saw,_

_What they were up to,_

_Now a vulture of the law,_

_With a gesture of his claw,_

_Blamed a child for his deed,_

_Then there was nothing left to need,_

_And she would fall, so soft, so young, so lost and oh so beautiful…"_

"And the child, Ma'am? Did she succumb?" Grace asked patently

"_Oh that was many years ago,_

_I doubt if anyone would know…"_ Susan began walking down the gangplank of the ship, but then she turned and smiled as Grace "Thank you, Grace. If it weren't you up there in the crow's-nest that spotted me I'd still be in the godforsaken sea…"

"Will I see you again?" Grace asked, not attempting to hide the hope in her eyes

"You might find me if you like, around… Fleet Street, I wouldn't wonder…" With that Susan walked into the shadows, her filthy black dress trailing on the wet cobblestones as she walked into the fog.


	3. The Worst Pies in London: Ch2

A/N: Geez, this seems just to be clawing its way out of me, doesn't it

**A/N: Geez, this seems just to be clawing its way out of me, doesn't it? Man I feel bad, though… I haven't updated anything else in… months… oh well, when the feeling comes: cripple it so it can't get away…**

**--**

Susan walked slowly to the exact shop where this whole mess began, that wretched shop on Fleet Street, she nervously raked her fingers through her now black hair with a grimace.

She pushed through the old wooden door of the shop, the old wood making a gross scraping sound on the aging floor.

"'ello?" Susan called nervously, wringing her hands

A man, a few years older than Susan peeked from behind the rotting counter near the back "A customer?" he asked breathless, and started to bustle around Susan "Wait!—

_What's yer rush? What's yer hurry?_

_Ya gave me such a fright; I thought ye were a ghost!_

'_alf a minute! Can' yer sit! Sit ye down… _Sit!" he eagerly pushed Susan into the dusty chair and gingerly placed a saucer with a molding meat pie in front of Susan

"_All I meant is that I haven't seen a customer in weeks!_

_Did you come in for a pie, Miss?_

_Do forgive me if my heads a little vague… _What is that!?" the man plucked some creature from the countertop

"_But you'd think we 'ad the plague!_

_From the way that people, keep avoiding… _No you don't!" he deafly slapped an insect with his rolling pin

"_Heaven's know I try, Miss,_

_But there's no one comes in even to inhale,_

_Right you are, Ma'am, would you like a drop of ale?_

_Mind you, I can hardly blame them; these are probably the worst pies in London!_

_I know why nobody cares to take 'em,_

_I should know,_

_I make 'em,_

_But good? No!_

_The worst pies in London,_

_Even that's polite!_

_The worst pies in London,_

If you doubt it take a bite…" he trailed off, waiting for Susan to comply

Susan shrugged and bit down hard into the crusty surface of her pie and promptly set it back onto the saucer and neatly spit in remains of the putrid taste into her handkerchief.

The man continued his song:

"_Is that just disgusting,_

_You have to concede it,_

_It's nothing but crusting,_

_Here drink this,_

You'll need it!

_The worst pies in London,"_ he gingerly handed Susan a mug of Ale, who greedily drank it down

"_And no wonder with the price of meat,_

_What it is,_

_When you get it,_

_Never,_

_Thought I'd live to see the day,_

_You'd think it was a treat,_

_Findin' poor,_

_Animals,_

_Wot are dying in the street!_

_Mrs. Lovett had a pie shop,_

_Did her business but I noticed somethin' weird,_

_All her neighbor's costumer's disappeared!_

'_ave to 'and it to 'er,_

_Wot I calls enterprise!_

_Poppin' people into pies!_

_Wouldn't do in my shop,_

_Just the thought of it's enough to make ya sick,_

_And I'm tellin' you them officers run quick,_

_No denying, Time's are hard, Miss._

_Even harder than the worst pies in London,_

_Only lard and nothing more,_

_Is that just revolting,_

_All greasy and gritty?_

_It looks like it's molting,_

_And tastes like,_

_Well, pity,_

_A woman alone,_

_With limited wind,_

_And the worst pies in London!_

_Ah, miss, time's is hard,_

_Time's is hard!"_

Meanwhile Susan hadn't stopped drinking down the ale as an escapement of both her fears and the foul taste in her mouth.

"Trust me, dear. It'll take a lot more than ale to wash that taste down;" The man said and seeming to take his time studying Susan added "C'mon then, let's get you some gin…" he stood and started walking towards the room Susan had hidden in as a child, and motioned for Susan to follow.

Susan sat down gently on one of the chesterfields sending dust into the air, the man smiled sheepishly and apologized "Sorry," he said "My late wife used to dust all the time, now," he sighed gesturing to the grime on everything "Look at this."

"You've got a room over this shop, don't 'cha? Time's are so hard, why not rent it out?" Susan asked bluntly

The man rolled his eyes "People think its 'aunted,"

"Haunted?" Susan repeated, not believing him

"Yeah, y'see years ago, somethin' happened up there, somethin' not very nice." The man leaned back agenst the back of the rocking chair he occupied

"_There was a barber and his wife,_

_And she was beautiful,_

_A proper artist with a knife,_

_But they transported him for life,_

_And she was beautiful,_

_And she was virtuous,_

_And he was naïve…_

_He had this wife, y'see,  
Pretty little thing,  
Silly little nit,  
Had her chance for the moon on a string.  
Poor thing.  
Poor thing.  
There were these two, y'see,  
Wanted her like mad,  
One of 'em a judge, t'other one his beadle!  
Every day they'd nudge and they'd wheedle!  
But she wouldn't budge from her needle!  
Too bad,  
Pure thing.  
So they merely shipped the poor blighter off south, they did,  
Leavin' 'er with nothing but grief and a year-old kid!  
Did she use her head even then? Oh no, God forbid!  
Poor fool!  
Ah, but there was worse yet to come, poor thing..." _he trailed off looking at Susan

"So ,Miss…?"

"Be—" Susan stopped, mentally slapping herself, she couldn't give out her **real** last name, she'd be shipped back to that prison, surly "Todd, Susan Todd."

"Ah, well then, would tha be Mrs. Todd?" He asked, not skipping a beat

"No," Susan cut him off sourly "and I don't see why it should be your business Mr.…?" Susan was getting defensive

"Mr. Hunter," he imitated a bow from his sitting position. "You remind me of someone…" He trailed off lost in thought

Susan became uncomfortable now, she couldn't risk this guttersnipe ruining the plan she'd taken 20 years to concoct.

While Susan was planning different ways to kill him, Mr. Hunter had already made the connection

"Bekett," he said at last "Susanna Bekett," his eyes gleamed as if she were a precious jewel

Susan jumped to her feet, "No!" she cried "Not Bekett, the women you remember is dead, it's Todd now, Susan Todd, and she will have her revenge."

**--**

**A/N: gee, you'd think in retrospect I should've had her name changed, I don't no, I think instead maybe It'll be "Susanna" before her imprisonment and "Susan" after, okay, thank you.**


End file.
